


Boxers, Blunts and Blushing

by orphan_account



Series: Put on some Pants [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Squip, Boyfriends, Coming In Pants, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Smut, Weed, im making them 18 here, its not actual smut but, jeremy is horny, micheal can kiss really well, shot gunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 14:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16535942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Jeremy was, for lack of a better term, disgustingly, stomach-wrenchingly, in love with his best friend."In which Jeremy is in love, Micheal is wearing no pants and shotgunning ensues because Jeremy can't inhale smoke for his life.





	Boxers, Blunts and Blushing

**Author's Note:**

> this is cute and shit in the beginning but I have no filter so it gets smutty at the end hehe
> 
> enjoy xx
> 
> also, weed is involved because Micheal loves that sweet kush 
> 
>  
> 
> (comment if y'all would like a second part but in Micheal's POV)

Jeremy was, for lack of a better term, disgustingly, stomach-wrenchingly, in love with his best friend. It was the kind of love that made his head spin, made all the blood rush to his face, and sometimes, rush down to below the waist. If he thought about it too much, his hands would shake and his thoughts would get fuzzy. And yeah, he would admit, it took way too long for him to come to this conclusion. And in that span of time, he would stay up for hours on end—not that he doesn’t still do that—just thinking about _why the hell_ Micheal’s _s_ mile made his stomach flip, and why in the ever loving _fuck_ did he want to stare into his dark eyes forever, ruffle his black hair and squish his soft, tan cheeks between his palms. And why did his heart constrict and his breathing stop when Micheal threw a warm, soft, loving arm around his shoulder or tackled him to the ground when Jeremy beat him at Call of Duty. Or why, just why, did he have the burning urge to kiss him whenever they lay around in Micheal’s basement, weed smoke curling around them, soft light framing his slightly defined jawline and strong nose. It had dawned on him, in the middle of English class, where he was leaning on his hand, eyes roaming about on Micheal’s face.

They had just come back from lunch, and Micheal had a slight stain of blue on his lips, and Jeremy just couldn’t stop staring. He wondered if the stain still tasted faintly of Blue Raspberry slushy, wondered if he could pick up on the sweetness if their mouths were pressed together and Jeremy ran his tongue along Micheal’s bottom lip. The thought had made him blush and squirm in his seat, and he had shifted his body so he was staring at the front of the room, thoughts endlessly swirling in his head. He had scrunched his nose up, and thought, _Jeremy, you idiot, just because you have a raging crush on your best friend of 12 years does NOT mean you should let these thoughts infiltrate your head._ And he had gasped, because what the hell? Of course, he knew that thoughts like his weren’t, um, normal, well they were (Jeremy wasn’t homophobic, being gay, bi, whatever is normal), but not something every boy has about their best bud. The gasp was loud enough for Micheal to turn and look at him quizzically, and hell, Jeremy wanted to curl up into a ball and die. He remembers that moment, heart pounding and head reeling because he had just admitted that he has a big _fat_ _crush_ on his best friend and frankly, he didn’t know what to do with that information. He definitely _definitely_ would not tell Micheal about it, because what sane person tells their crush how much they like them, especially if that crush is mostly likely straight. Jeremy didn’t meet Micheal’s eyes until he realized that it would be better to address it now then after class, or anytime, so he nervously met Micheal’s eyes, and damn. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea. Micheal had been looking at him with his dark eyes that seemed so deep that if Jeremy stumbled a bit further he would fall into them and be endlessly twirling in an ocean of Micheal, Micheal, Micheal. Jeremy had clenched his jaw and shook his head, shooting out a quiet _nothing_ and hoped that Micheal would shrug it off. Thankfully, it seemed as if he did, and the rest of the day had gone by easily. From the outside, it looked like nothing had happened, but on the inside, Jeremy was mere moments away from dropping dead. His mind was fumbling with thoughts of Micheal. Micheal’s soft hair. Micheal’s brown eyes. Micheal’s gently curved, round lips. _Micheal’s laugh._ The laugh that sent shivers up and down Jeremy’s spine. And Micheal’s voice. It was deep, calm, relaxing, something that made Jeremy soften and want to wrap him in a large hug, but also something that made his blood rush to his cheeks (and presumably other places...) because _god_ it was sexy.

Even though his realization had hit him almost two months ago, those thoughts were still present, very present, in his mind.

So here he lay, under the warmth of his covers, staring up at the ceiling at 2 am. Jeremy groaned in frustration, pulling at his hair and scowling at nothing in particular. He was going crazy. Crazy with love, lust, lack of affection. Usually, around now, he would pinch himself and then attempt to go to bed, but it was Friday night or Saturday morning, so he could stay up until the crack of dawn if he wanted. Jeremy rolled over on his side and reached out to grab his phone off his bedside table. The screen was empty, per usual, as nobody really cared that much to talk to him.

Except for Micheal.

God, Micheal.

Jeremy groaned quietly and unlocked his phone, fingers hovering over the apps. There wasn’t much. Instagram, which he rarely posted on, Snapchat, but technically the only person he really snapped was Micheal, and occasionally his cousins. And there were a couple games. Nothing fancy, just Spit, a card game that he could play for ages because it was just so damn entertaining. There was Netflix, but again, he saved his laptop for that, and at the moment, wasn’t really watching any shows. He opened his messages, the last text sent around midnight to Micheal, telling him goodnight. A thoughtful expression twisted over his face, and ultimately he decided to text Micheal. It’s not like they weren’t best friends and Micheal was just some annoyingly hot dude he talked to once in a while. Jeremy was just making it weird by running very unlikely scenarios out in his head. Very one-sided scenarios, because hell, he highly doubted that Micheal was tossing and turning in his bed at night thinking about Jeremy’s mouth and hands and—a small ping interrupted his thoughts, his eyes flickering back to his phone.

 

 **Jeremy:** _u awake?_

 

 **Micheal:** _I am now._

 

Jeremy’s stomach dropped. So he had woken him up. Great going.

 

 **Jeremy:** _shit man, I’m sorry. Go back to bed._

 

 **Micheal:** _I’m just kidding with u. I’m just lying in bed._

 

Jeremy glared at his screen.

 

 **Jeremy:** _doing what lol_

 

He hadn’t meant for it to sound...suggestive. His face flared red and fuck, he wanted to throw his phone against the wall.

 

 **Micheal:** _Whatchu think? (;_

 

Fucking hell. Something stirred in Jeremy’s chest and he whined, watching the typing bubble pop up and down menacingly.

 

**Micheal:** _jus kidding. only thinking._

 

That idiot. Of course he wasn’t...doing what Jeremy was thinking, but still, his heart deflated just a tad, but not enough for him to notice drastically.

 

 **Jeremy:** _bout what? And if u say porn, I swear to god I’m going to block ur ass_

 

 **Micheal:** _u wish._

 

_Yknow, just life and all that exciting stuff._

 

 **Jeremy:** _yea I understand._

 

He contemplated if he should add a quick ‘lol’ at the end, but he didn’t. Micheal didn’t respond for a few minutes and Jeremy took in the darkness, breathing steadily. He really wasn’t tired. There was something about tonight and he just really wanted to get out of his room. even though he couldn’t see, he could feel the messiness radiating off of each corner. Five, almost ten minutes passed without a reply and he grumpily opened his phone, typing out another text to Micheal.

 

 **Jeremy:** _u still awake?_

 

A minute passed.

 

 **Micheal:** _yes sir._

 

Jeremy chewed on his lip thoughtfully and shrugged. It’s not like they haven’t snuck out at night to meet up. It would just be the first time doing it since he has his uh, epiphany of sorts.

 

 **Jeremy:** _wanna meet up? I’m bored and can’t sleep._

 

 **Micheal:** _sure thing, buttercup. As long as I can bring some weed._

 

Jeremy dropped his phone on his face, spluttering to himself.

 

“Buttercup? What the fuck, Micheal.” A blush crept up his neck and crawled its way over his cheeks. Micheal wasn’t one to not use nicknames, it was just something that blossomed a couple years back. But he never used nicknames like...buttercup. A stupid little flower. Jeremy scrunched his nose and quickly replied, deciding that ignoring the nickname would be the best choice.

 

 **Jeremy:** _whatever u want dude._

 

 **Micheal:** _awsum. meet u at the usual in 15?_

 

 

He answered with a thumbs up and flicked on his bedside lamp, rummaging around for something to wear. He didn’t want to look like a total slob, although Micheal had seen Jeremy at his worst, he didn’t want to look too put together for a ‘normal’ rendezvous at 2 am. He wiggled into some black sweatpants and swapped his striped shirt for a looser, pale yellow one that had a faded Yoda printed on the front. Grabbing his shoes and phone, he switched the light off and silently padded down the stairs, grateful for socks and non-squeaky stairs. Before he could slip out the door, he caught sight of his hair in the mirror and grimaced. It was sticking up in all directions, and he didn’t really have time to fix it. So one of his most used alternatives, he put on a random hoodie hanging off the coat rack and flipped up the hood.

With his shoes now on, he quietly went out the door, relishing the cool fall air against his flushed skin. He was nervous. So nervous and the closer he got to their spot—a secluded bench behind a small cluster of trees _—_ the more he felt his hands grow clammy and his heart jitter wildly in his chest. Jeremy was a usually anxious person, and he could just blame this behavior on that, not a stupid crush on his stupidly attractive best friend.

He walked in silence for 10 minutes, shoving his hands in the hoodie pocket as his hands had begun to grow icy. The sound of his sneakers on the pavement was the only thing he heard, the scuff somehow soothing to his antsy tics. The bench was empty when he arrived, so he sat down and shivered as the seat was slightly damp and pretty cold. He curled a leg under him and drew his hoodie tight, patiently waiting. Not even a minute later, the quiet slap of heavy sneakers on the ground reached his ears and he looked up, smiling giddily as Micheal bounded his way over, red sweater flashing in the dark.He slid onto the bench, yelping slightly, and Jeremy assumed because of the cold seat.

 

“Cold!” Micheal squeaked and pulled his sweater down over his ass, hoping that the thick layer would provide some sort of cushion. Jeremy’s eyes trailed down to Micheal’s lower half and blushed, mentally scolding himself. Micheal wasn’t even wearing pants. Well, he was. But just boxers; Black boxers covered in little pacmans that stopped mid-thigh, and holy shit. Jeremy had seen Micheal in his underwear before, but fuck never had his mind short-circuited as he stared at him. His thighs were tan, thick and muscular and Jeremy couldn’t help but think about running his fingers along them, feeling the muscles twitch underneath his fingertips. He couldn’t help but think about trailing his hands into his inner thigh, and god, he imagined pressing his palms against those legs, feeling Micheal’s heat seep through his skin and into his bones. Jeremy blushed deeper and willed himself to look away, blocking off the image of Micheal’s legs.

 

“You _are_ wearing no pants.” He retorted, eyeing Micheal, smiling stupidly.

 

“Shut up. I forgot.” Micheal mumbled, shrinking into his hoodie, and Jeremy laughed, turning himself so he faced him.

 

“Where are the goods?” Jeremy tilted his head, one leg bouncing up and down nervously.

 

“Wooah. Someone’s eager.” Micheal winked, and okay, that totally didn’t cause Jeremy to shift uncomfortably because he totally wasn’t getting tingly everywhere. Emphasis on the everywhere.

 

“I’m antsy! I need to relax...or something.” Jeremy trailed off, twisting his lips with the memory of that one time he had an edible and couldn’t stop laughing for a solid 20 minutes. Hopefully, that wouldn’t happen again. He did really want to relax.

 

Micheal rolled his eyes and pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket. There were two joints in it, a small red lighter resting underneath them. He fished the lighter and the bigger joint of the two, stuffing the bag back in his pocket. Jeremy watched him intently as he placed the joint between his lips (those god damn lips) and lit it up, shielding it with his hand. The joint was held lightly between Micheal’s lips and he inhaled, chest rising. Jeremy watched as his throat moved and he tilted his head back, parting his plush lips apart and blowing out. Thick tendrils of smoke curled throughout the air and they lingered for a few seconds before a light breeze whisked it away. Still leaning his head back against the bench, Micheal turned towards Jeremy and grinned.

 

“Wanna?” He held out the joint, dangling it between his fingers, wiggling his brows. Jeremy nodded eagerly and took it from him, bringing it to his mouth. He was kissing Micheal, in a way, and he assumed that this would probably be the only Time he would come close to it. (But little did Jeremy know.) Feeling a surge of confidence overcome him, he inhaled, long and hard, immediately regretting it less than two seconds later. His lungs burned, his throat stung and he tore the blunt away from his mouth, coughing violently. Smoke billowed out of his mouth and he doubled over, chest tight. As soon as the smoke cleared, he gasped like a fish out of water, oxygen filling his lungs. A hacking cough escaped his lips and he squirmed uncomfortably. Micheal had thrown his head back, hand over his face while the other held the blunt. He was laughing, laughing so hard and Jeremy couldn’t help but blush. Not just because he was being laughed at, but because the laugh that Micheal was emitting melted him right to the core. It was loud, booming, and he imagined Micheal’s chest was vibrating with laughter. He reached out and slapped Micheal’s shoulder, glaring at him, a small pout gracing his lips.

 

“Screw you.”

 

Micheal just responded with a snort, shaking his head at Jeremy and plucking the blunt out of his pale fingers.

 

“You’ll never get high.” Micheal turned and looked at him, something playful and dare he say it, sultry, lurking in his eyes.

 

“I will! Maybe not with a stupid blunt.” Jeremy scrunched his nose and turned so he was facing him, throwing a leg over Micheal’s lap, the other dangling off the bench.

 

“Or maybe...” Micheal tapped his chin thoughtfully, eyes flickering downwards to Jeremy’s leg before making eye contact with him. “We could shotgun.” He shrugged, bringing the blunt to his lips and inhaling again. Jeremy’s heart stopped beating. And he stopped breathing, his entire body flaring with heat. Did...did Micheal really say that? Did he offer to shotgun, with Jeremy, his best friend, who also happens to have the biggest crush on him (not that Micheal knew that…but still)? A cloud of smoke whirled around in front of Jeremy, slightly impairing him, giving him a couple seconds to think…the answer was obvious, right? There were so many scenarios that flashed in his mind, causing him to dwindle on the opinion. As Micheal’s face became visible, Jeremy took a shaky breath and opened his mouth. But Micheal was faster.

 

“It's okay. I was…kidding.” Micheal hesitated, lips pulled down in a sort-of-frown. He reached down to stub out the blunt on the ground, but Jeremy threw himself out, grabbing his arm.

 

“No! I mean—,” Jeremy coughed awkwardly, pulling himself up, still holding onto Micheal’s arm, “let’s do it.” The sort-of-frown that Micheal was sporting eased away and his eyes widened, sparkling, pretty lips curving into a wide smile.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Jeremy nodded, heart thudding in his chest.

 

“Okay. C’mere.” Micheal beckoned Jeremy over with a flick of his finger, and it sent tingles down his spine. Jeremy got to his feet and shuffled closer to the end of the bench were Micheal was lounging and sat in front of him. He slipped his right leg through the space that was at the back of the bench, angling his body towards Micheal. Micheal mirrored Jeremy’s position and moved as close as he could. Though, with both of them straddling the bench and their knees bumping awkwardly, there was still a fair amount of space between them. Micheal stopped moving and seemed to asses the situation, eyes roaming around. He seemed hesitant to say whatever he wanted to say, but shrugged it off and opened his mouth.

 

“Closer. Come uh, sit on my lap.” Micheal smiled softly, and Jeremy swore he saw a dusting of pink over his cheeks. And the words didn’t register until after a moment, and heat flashed down towards Jeremy’s stomach. He bit his lip nervously, but complied, lifting himself up and lowering himself down between Micheal’s legs. They were so close and the heat, the burning heat of Micheal’s legs underneath Jeremy’s thighs was almost enough for his entire body to curl in on itself due to pleasure. Micheal was close—too close, attacking his senses, sending his heart into a wild frenzy. They probably could’ve managed to shotgun in the previous position, but that idea didn’t really cross either boy's mind. Jeremy shifted and wrapped his legs around Micheal’s waist, the soft curves of him pressing against the inside of his thighs, causing his breathing to stutter.

Micheal seemed poised, calm, yet as Jeremy stared at him more intently, he noticed his chest was rising and falling much quicker than before and fuck, he knew he probably wasn’t turned on, but Jeremy was and even the mere thought of Micheal squirming, because his pants were too tight, sent prickly vibrations through Jeremy’s body. He rested his hands against his thighs, one accidentally slipping down and grazing the soft skin of Micheal’s thigh. And it just so happened, in the position they were resting in, Micheal’s boxers had ridden up his thighs, bunching up, and Jeremy could swear he could see the bulge of Micheal resting against the underwear. He shuddered and absentmindedly began rubbing Micheal’s thigh with a finger, reveling at the warmth he radiated and god, he could touch him forever, sexual or not. Micheal sucked in a quiet breath, but Jeremy just blamed it on his imagination. And Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he had worn shorts and what it would’ve felt like if their bare skin had brushed against each other.

 

“Ready?” Micheal cleared his throat, snapping Jeremy out of his trance and causing him to yank his hand back. He nodded and watched as Micheal delicately placed the half-burnt joint between his lips and lit it, taking a hefty drag. He mouth clamped shut and one hand holding the blunt, the other tightly, but still with a gentle hand, gripped Jeremy’s jaw and brought their faces close. He swallowed and parted his lips slightly, sucking in the smoke that Micheal blew out. It was much gentler, less of a harsh punch to his lungs and Jeremy held it in before turning his head slightly and blowing the smoke out, careful not to push it back into Micheal’s face.

Another drag was taken by Micheal and this time he tilted Jeremy’s head upwards. Their eyes met and Jeremy could see the slightly honey colored specks scattered throughout, and Jesus, Micheal’s pupils were blown wide. The edges of his eyes were tinted pink, and he must admit, Micheal looked hot up close. Both of their mouths parted At the same time, inches apart, and Jeremy let his lids flutter closed as he felt the smoke enter his lungs. He savored it, careful not to move, as he could feel the presence of Micheal’s mouth. He could feel how it was less then an inch away, and he wondered if he stirred or whispered something if their lips would brush against each other and the idea made him shiver and clench his fists. Jeremy exhaled, his breath shaky and then he waited, mouth slightly open. A large, warm hand slid onto his cheek, cradling it, fingers pressing lightly into his jaw. Startled, he opened his eyes to look at Micheal.

 

Another?” He whispered, and there was the slightest brush of his lips against Jeremy. He shuddered, hands trembling.

 

“Yeah.” He breathed out and Micheal took another drag. He held it in, thumb gliding over Jeremy’s bottom lip and pulling it down, opening his mouth further. Jeremy swallowed a whimper, closing his eyes as Micheal’s hand burned against his cheek. They proceeded with what they were doing—Jeremy inhaling what Micheal exhaled and letting it sit in his lungs before he let it outthroughout his nose. They were so close, so close that it hurt every inch of Jeremy’s body. His lips tingled, his thighs burned, not to mention something in his pants was twitching against his leg, straining against his pants. Micheal dropped the blunt to the ground and scuffed it out with his shoe, hand still pressed against Jeremy’s cheek.

 

 

Their lips still hovered dangerously close, Micheal’s warm breath blowing in his face.

 

“If you aren’t going to kiss me then let go of my face,” Jeremy whispered. That was a line that was definitely meant to stay in his head, but he was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t really care. Micheal’s hand stirred against his cheek and Jeremy opened his eyes. Micheal was blinking at him, brown eyes wide and surprised, cheeks flushed bright red. Jeremy bit his lip and started to pull away, but Micheal’s other hand came up to the other side of his face and held him in place. His eyes searched Jeremy’s face and suddenly he was closing in, the inch between them dissipating. Soft warmth: that’s what Jeremy felt as Micheal gently pressed his mouth against Jeremy’s. They both closed their eyes, leaning against each other. Jeremy sighed contently, pressing his palms flat against Micheal’s thighs.

As it came with the sigh, Jeremy’s lips had parted, just slightly, and Micheal pressed his tongue to his other half’s bottom lip. Despite having not kissed anybody before, Micheal was strangely skilled with his lips and tongue. Not that Jeremy was complaining—he was far from it. They pulled back from each other, breathing in deeply. Jeremy leaned his forehead against Micheal’s smiling shyly at him, and then suddenly Micheal was caching Jeremy in another kiss and yeah, okay, there was the inexperience. It was much sloppier, their teeth knocking together and lips slipping against the others, but nonetheless, it was endearing and still made Jeremy’s head feel fuzzy and light. Jeremy pressed his hands against Micheal’s chest. He was so warm, so soft, he felt so safe squished up against him. Micheal’s glasses pressed painfully against Jeremy’s face and despite the warmth the kiss radiated throughout his body, the cold metal was really starting to irritate him, and he pulled away, reaching up to tug Micheal’s glasses off his face.

 

“Hey!” Micheal opened his eyes and glared at him. “Now I can’t see you.”

 

“You aren’t supposed to see me. It’d be weird if your eyes were open during the kiss.”

 

“Says who?”

 

“Says like…everybody, Bruno Mars said something about it!” Jeremy slid the glasses into his hoodie pocket and pulled Micheal in for another kiss by the strings of his hoodie. Jeremy’s hands slid around Micheal’s neck and clasped together, pulling him closer against him. He arched his back, pressing every inch of his body against Micheal. He needed to feel him. The kiss grew desperate and Jeremy whined impatiently, pulling back and glaring at Micheal’s hoodie.

 

“It’s too big.” He tugged at the bottom of it. “Take it off.” Micheal stilled and Jeremy looked up at him.

 

“What?” Micheal stuttered, blinking stupidly at Jeremy.

 

“Take off your sweater. It’s too big,” Jeremy paused, rolling words over his tongue before quietly speaking up, “and I want to touch you.” His hands fell to his thighs and he nervously scratched at the soft material of his pants, all the while holding Micheal’s gaze. Despite the darkness shrouding them, Jeremy could make out the flush of Micheal’s face and the way his lips opened and closed like a helpless fish and the widening of his eyes. He swallowed loudly and Jeremy followed the movement with his eyes; the bobbing up and down of Micheal’s Adam’s apple, and he fought hard to not just attack that neck in kisses. Jeremy’s gaze flickered back up to Micheal’s and he bit his lip, part in nervousness and part because he was, to be completely honest, feeling kind of sexy.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Micheal’s voice was shaky, breathless, and he fumbled for the bottom of his sweater and clumsily pulled it over his head. The bag with the other blunt and lighter rattled in the pocket as the hoodie fell to the ground, but neither boy paid attention to it. Jeremy was too busy staring. Under the hoodie, he was wearing a plain white t shirt, that seemed to glow in the darkness, almost highlighting his face and tan skin. It was smaller than he would’ve expected, clinging to his broad shoulders and soft chest. Jeremy slowly reached out, sliding his hands underneath the hem of the shirt, pressing his palms flat against Micheal’s stomach. His breath hitched and Jeremy could feel the muscles of his stomach tighten underneath his hand. The air between them was tense and it made Jeremy’s heart beat faster. His lip slid between his teeth and he looked up shyly at Micheal, a blush coating his cheeks.

 

“I...” Micheal started, but the words seemed to get caught in his throat so he continued to blink at Jeremy. Jeremy took a shaky breath and leaned closer, their noses bumping and lips brushing. Despite having kissed moments before, a wave of nervousness washed over Jeremy, so he softly pressed his mouth against Micheal’s, something itching to kiss him harder, but he refrained. As if he could read his mind, Micheal pushed forward and slid his tongue between their lips, licking gently across Jeremy’s bottom lip before taking it between his teeth and biting down slightly. Jeremy made a noise between a soft moan and a strangled whimper, the sound trapped behind his throat.

The heat of the kiss increased, Jeremy’s fingers hungrily pressing against Micheal’s skin. One hand stayed glued to his stomach, while the other snaked around and cradled his back, fingertips lightly tracing patterns into his skin. Micheal’s breath hitched and he leaned into the touch, but it was so subtle Jeremy _almost_ didn’t notice it. A swell of heat bloomed throughout his body and he pushed further, deepening the kiss. But before he could do anything else, Micheal pulled back, quite reluctantly, and stared at Jeremy, clearly stuck in thought.

 

“What does...this mean?” He asked quietly and Jeremy had never heard Micheal sound so...small, so insecure, so he dropped his hands from underneath Micheal’s shirt, heart dropping as his hands met the cool air. Michael adverted his gaze away from Jeremy, staring out into darkness behind him.

 

“Well...” Jeremy let out a tiny laugh but quickly shut his mouth at Micheal’s expression. “It means I like you.” He paused, attempting to lower his voice but it just rose into something squeaky and embarrassed. “Like... _really like you._ ” Something inside of him urged him to look away, but he refused and he was glad he didn’t because Micheal’s eyes snapped back to him, widening at his words.

 

“You what?” His voice stuttered and he cleared it. “You like me? Seriously?” Micheal pulled his hands away from where they were resting on Jeremy’s thighs and wrapped them around his waist, shrinking in on himself. Jeremy blushed and bent down, looking up at Micheal from under his lashes.

 

“I do. Have for a quite a while. Well, two months. I’m sure I liked you before, just only came to terms with it lately. But god, how did I not notice earlier? You have the most amazing laugh and I love your hair and eyes and _god_ everything about you is so irresistible, not to mention the way you kiss is fucking hot. And now I’m rambling.” Jeremy bit down on his tongue, wincing, hoping it would shut himself up.

 

“I—I like you too.” Micheal said shyly, eyes glittering in the faint moonlight that shone down on them. A light breeze ruffled his hair, bringing it down over his forehead and in front of his eyes when it died down, and Jeremy, on impulse, reached forward and brushed it back, the soft strands complying against the movement of his fingers.

 

Jeremy hummed quietly, the sound barely audible and let his hand slide down and cup Micheal’s cheek, running his thumb over the soft skin, before letting it drop and wrapping his fingers loosely around Micheal’s arm. He let his eyes drink in every inch of Micheal’s face, bare of his glasses and his hood, and Jesus Christ, he was gorgeous. Sure, he was no Chris Hemsworth, but in all honesty, that’s not what Jeremy wanted. He wanted the dark circles under the thick, sometimes smudged glasses. He wanted how they slightly slanted off his nose, and he wanted the messy hair that was usually hidden under his hood or smushed by those big, dorky headphones he wore all the damn time.

And he definitely wants the sloppy kisses he just recently discovered, and the lung-crushing hugs which always overwhelm him with the smell of Micheal; weed, freshly ironed clothing (due to the patches), and cinnamon vanilla (or something in that area). He let his eyes roam over the plush curve of Micheal’s lips, and it made his stomach flip at how red and puffy they looked, in lieu of their kissing minutes before. His gaze stopped at the small beauty mark at the corner of his mouth and without thinking, he leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to it. He pulled away and blushed at Micheal’s shocked expression, shifting awkwardly in his lap.

 

“You should, um, put on your sweater,” Jeremy said after feeling the goosebumps rise on Micheal’s skin as another breeze blew past them.

 

“I’m fine. And I thought you wanted it off, in the first place.”

 

“You have no fucking pants on, Micheal.” Jeremy chose to ignore the second comment, face flushing.

 

“You’re keeping me warm.” He grinned cheekily, but reached down anyways and picked up his sweater, making it right-side-out and pulling it over his head. Jeremy reached into his own pocket and took out Micheal’s glasses, sliding them onto Micheal’s face when he reappeared from the inside of his hoodie.

 

“Thanks. I was starting to miss your face.” Micheal blinked a few times and Jeremy guessed he was just readjusting his vision.

 

“Ugh, shut up.” Jeremy rolled his eyes and leant forward, catching him in another kiss. His glasses still pressed uncomfortably against his cheek but he could care less because kissing Micheal was all that mattered. Micheal smiled against Jeremy’s mouth, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him closer, their chests flush. The kiss was still messy and inexperienced and yet, neither boy seemed to care. They were too stuck within the moment and each other. Jeremy pushed closer, if it was even possible, and parted his lips. Micheal took this as an invitation of some kind, and let his tongue run across Jeremy’s bottom lip. Jeremy made a quiet pleasured noise, his fingers tightening their grip on Micheal’s hoodie. Micheal was seriously killing him. More of that stupid (but not seriously stupid, Jeremy liked it) tongue and he would not be able to conceal the growing situation in his pants. But that was a problem for later, as he wasn’t really paying attention, his legs hooked around each other, locking Micheal in between his thighs. He felt one of Micheal’s hand curve around the back of his head, his fingers digging deep into his curls, and despite the pinch against his scalp, it felt good. So good, he whimpered helplessly against Micheal’s mouth. He felt as if he was going into overdrive, each brush of Micheal’s fingers or each bite on his lip sent tingles throughout his body, and all he could do was press himself along the length of Micheal’s body. He squirmed down against Micheal, earning a deep grunt of him, which instantly drove Jeremy crazy.

They were kissing, seriously kissing, and Jeremy was starting to get light headed. He was heavily breathing through his nose, but taking gulps of air was starting to become really appealing. And then, suddenly, he felt Micheal’s hand slip underneath his sweater then his shirt and his warm fingers were gripping Jeremy’s waist. It all becomes too much for Jeremy. Way too much. He pulled his mouth away from Micheal, but couldn’t bring himself to look him in the face, so he leaned closer and rested his head against the crook of his neck. Micheal didn’t seem to notice until a few seconds later, and Jeremy felt his hand still against his waist. The two of them stayed in that position for a minute, both catching their breath and trying to stabilize their heartbeats. Jeremy pushed his face deeper into Micheal’s shoulder, breathing in his smell.

Then, Micheal’s hand began to move. Jeremy stopped moving, shutting his eyes tightly, taking in every touch as Micheal’s fingers caressed his hipbone, then his spine, before coming back around and dipping down to trace along the line of his waistband. Jeremy was breathing, although it didn’t quite feel like it, and gasped loudly, the movement shuddering him to the core. Micheal’s hand was close, so close to where the really wanted to be touched and then his hips unconsciously jutted forward and a needy, desperate moan escaped Jeremy’s mouth. A couple fingers slipped underneath his waistband and he had to do something before he embarrassed himself. Micheal wasn’t even touching him, and he felt a very familiar pressure pooling in his lower stomach. The fingers curled around the band of underwear and all the while holding his breath, Jeremy sat up, sliding backward off of Micheal’s lap and onto the bench. It was a shock, the cold, damp bench seeping through his pants, rather than a sweaty, hot warmth from Micheal’s thighs. But it caused his spine to go rigid, cooling down the heat coursing through his body.

 

“Jeremy?” Micheal spoke quietly, his voice deep and husky and Jeremy didn’t know if it was the cold, but he shivered. He turned his gaze towards Micheal, who was staring at him with a puzzled gaze, brows furrowed, cheeks pink, lips swollen.

 

“I’m fine.” Jeremy sounded strangled, and he cleared his throat, glancing away from his face, tracing the folds in Micheal’s hoodie with his eyes.

 

“Did I...go to far? I’m sorry if—“

 

“No! No, definitely not.” Jeremy’s head shot up, and he reached his hand out and gripped one of Micheal’s knees. “I was just um,” he paused, toes curling in his shoes, “close.” He blushed, embarrassed because he didn’t want Micheal to think he was just a horny teenage boy, who comes in his pants after five minutes of kissing. But, in his defense, Micheal is a very talented kisser, not to mention his hands burn a trail of heat on Jeremy’s skin whenever he touches him.

 

“Close?” Micheal blinked at him, realization blooming. “Oh. Oh! Shit, I’m sorry, Jeremy.” His blush reached all the way up to the tips of his ears, and Jeremy honestly didn’t know why he was apologizing.

 

“What are you sorry for? Being such a good kisser?” Jeremy shoved his shoulder playfully, letting his hand rest there. Micheal’s brows shot up and he grinned.

 

“You think I’m a good kisser?” Micheal placed his hand over Jeremy’s and tangled their fingers together, lifting it up and bringing it to his lips, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his palm. Jeremy squirmed and tried to tug his hand away, but Micheal’s grip was strong. “Do you?” Micheal leant forward, tongue momentarily swiping against his swollen bottom lip. Jeremy tracked the movement with his eyes, heart pounding furiously against his chest.

 

“Yes...” When he spoke, it was barely audible, but Micheal knew what he said and he broke out into a wide smile, eyes glittering. Micheal shifted closer, trailing his fingers up Jeremy’s thigh and a hot shudder ran throughout Jeremy, skin burning as the pads of Micheal’s fingers pressed into him. Despite the somewhat thick fabric of his pants, it felt as if he were bare and the thought made his breathing quicken.

 

“I bet,” Micheal pressed a heavy kiss right where Jeremy’s jaw and ear met, tongue poking out between his lips and licking a hot stripe down the shape of his jaw and back up. Jeremy fluttered his eyes closed, whimpering quietly at the teasing movements Micheal performed on him.

 

“I bet that I’m also good at something else.”

 

The fingers that were resting on this thigh, had fallen inwards and up, pressing lightly against the bulge of Jeremy. The fingers twitched, and Jeremy felt dizzy. His chest was tight, making it hard to breathe, but it felt good, like, _really good_ , so Jeremy paid no attention as he struggled slightly to get air circulating in his body again. Jeremy was pretty sure he was dying. His brain short circuited every ten seconds and he had to remember what situation he was in and it just flustered him even more. Not to mention, Micheal was still mouthing at the sensitive spot on his neck, each brush sending heavy shivers down his back.

 

“Yeah,” Jeremy broke off, a breathy moan bubbling through his lips—“yeah, you’re probably good at everything.”

 

He felt Micheal smile against his skin and then something hot and wet was pressing against the small dip of his collarbones.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Micheal’s palm pressed fully between Jeremy’s thighs, and his body twitched, knees folding in and toes curling. Jeremy fisted Micheal’s hoodie tightly, jerking him closer because he needed more, needed so much more.

 

The air between them was thick and it was as if the world grew still, the only viable noises were the high and breathy shudders of Jeremy as he finished. Everything came rushing back, hitting Jeremy square in the chest and he blinked, hoping to clear his vision. They rested for what seemed like another couple hours but was really only five minutes. Jeremy eventually shook himself into reality and slid off of Micheal's lap, still maintaining contact by leaning heavily against him and closing his eyes. 

Jeremy sort of felt bad, leaving Micheal in his situation, but he was tired. His body felt heavy and it was a struggle to push himself up when Micheal nudged him. 

 

"Hey, sleeping beauty. Wake up." 

 

"Hmm?" Jeremy's eyes fluttered open and he was met with Micheal's still flushed face and cheeky grin. It sent another wave of warmth through him and he returned the smile. 

 

"Let's get you home." 

 

"Only if you stay with me." 

 

"Deal."


End file.
